


a tall redwood tree

by dare121



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Extended Scene, F/F, Fluff, Post-Canon, SOFT GAYS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dare121/pseuds/dare121
Summary: Perfuma is no stranger to inappropriate thoughts during delicate moments.--or, 5 Times Perfuma Looks at Scorpia and Thinks “Top Me” -- and the 1 Time She Doesn't Have to
Relationships: Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 318





	a tall redwood tree

**Author's Note:**

> well, i did just write this in basically a single sitting (with some laundry and showering in between)
> 
> so i hope you enjoy! scorpia x perfuma are just *chef's kiss*
> 
> perfuma may very well be my favorite character to write

### 1\. 

Perfuma is no stranger to inappropriate thoughts during delicate moments. 

There’s been more than one occasion where she’s looked across the battlefield, saw She-Ra doing her _thing_ with that big sword of hers, and had to take a moment to quell the tingles. It’s inconvenient, but she’s sure she’s not the only one in the Alliance with that particular problem. 

She’s but a simple Princess - how was she ever supposed to withstand the charm of _She-Ra?_

So, really, Perfuma is used to having a squirm or two happen to her during battle. 

It’s not so much a problem as it is a nuisance. 

She’s fine. 

Sometimes, she likes to imagine that a few spicy thoughts in the heat of the moment can even help her grow her plants and crush the Horde’s forces. Her powers are fueled by her emotions, after all. And if a few of those are a little less than pure? Who can blame her.

When she enters this battle to protect a small village not too far from Plumeria, she expects the same thing to happen again. She-Ra is by her side, alongside Bow and Glimmer, and Perfuma feels herself gearing up for a fight. 

There are tanks and robots breaking through the foliage around them, and if there’s one thing that Perfuma dislikes more than anything, it’s when the Horde destroys the Nature of Etheria that she loves so dearly. Out of everything, the trees and flowers are the least responsible for this whole mess.

They move forward, and Perfuma encounters them head-on, riding on a big vine she’s coaxed out of the ground. She feels the power of her runestone as she barrels into the first tank, moving her hands along to the beat of her heart. 

“You think Nature won’t fight back,” she says to no one in particular, narrowing her eyes and letting her love for all living beings flow through her. “But that’s just because you’ve never been hit in the face with a vine!” She backs up her words by turning the tank upside down and shaking it until the lid pops open and a few horde soldiers tumble out. As promised, she whacks them in the face -- or rather, in the helmet, before tossing them aside. 

Then, she crushes the tank and drops it, too. Though not on top of the soldiers. She still has _some_ standards.

When she turns, scouring the environment to see if any of her friends need help, she sees that She-Ra is in the midst of a battle with her old friend from the Horde. _Catra._ Perfuma has heard all about her from Bow and Glimmer. She knows her presence is a sore spot for She-Ra, and when she sees Catra bat the Sword of Protection away like it’s nothing, Perfuma feels compelled to intervene.

She’s just about reached the clearing where the two are fighting, when a boulder narrowly misses her. 

Instinctively, she creates a shield of vines and looks in the direction of where the missile originated.

Her eyes meet those of a tall Horde soldier. Eyes as black as the dead of night and only made more menacing by the determined expression on her face. 

“You leave Catra alone,” the soldier growls, grabbing another boulder with her giant pincers. The muscles of her biceps bulge with the effort, and Perfuma knows it’s inappropriate. She _knows_ she shouldn’t have a reaction to this big, dangerous woman throwing things at her. The other woman is clearly trying to take over this place with the violence the Horde is known for.

But Etheria be damned.

Etheria.

Be.

_Damned._

As her vines move her out of the way, she can’t help getting that tingle again as she watches the other woman, and a voice screams _top me!!!_ in her head at the top of its lungs.

### 2\. 

Perfuma is not having the best day. 

Or the best evening.

The best _anything,_ if she’s honest with herself.

Her meditations can only do so much when she’s faced with the thought of a giant superweapon hidden at the core of the planet, ready to go off and explode the whole thing at any moment. The thought of Etheria being destroyed in a big supernova does not spark joy in her. She’s rather fond of their little planet - and they’re kind of dependent on it, too. They all live on it, after all.

While Glimmer and Adora continue to fight over whether or not they should use the superweapon, Perfuma conjures a flower in her hand and starts ripping out the petals one by one.

“Use the giant, scary magical weapon; don’t use the giant, scary magical weapon.” Her whispers sound manic, even to her own ears, but it’s really not fair. How are they supposed to make a decision like this? How is _Perfuma_ supposed to make a decision like this? 

She’s half-convinced the whole planet is going to explode in the next ten minutes from Adora and Glimmer’s anger alone, when Swift Wind’s voice barges into her perception. 

“How come I still don’t have a chair, when the new person does?” His annoyance is nothing new, and it takes Perfuma a few seconds to look up from the destroyed flower in her hand and follow the direction his wing is pointed at.

When she sees who it is, Perfuma’s whole body stops.

“Oh, sorry, no I don’t have a chair. I’m just sitting on Emily,” Scorpia says, looking for all intents and purposes like she’s been at every single one of their meetings ever since the Princess Alliance reassembled itself. Her pincers are placed in her lap and she has a sweet smile on her face, far too sweet for a Horde soldier. “Gosh, I am so sorry for popping in unannounced. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

She grins at them all, and Perfuma is on the verge of welcoming her - it’s in her nature to be hospitable - when Frosta pushes them all out of their shock by yelling. 

“Horde soldier!”

Immediately, all hell breaks loose, as Adora transforms into She-Ra on the spot and Perfuma reverses her stance. Hospitality is one thing, but this is _Scorpia._ Catra’s second in command. A second later, they’re all attacking Scorpia, who raises her pincers into the air and looks so apologetic, Perfuma doesn’t actually have the heart to call forth a vine to lash her with.

“No, no, wait!” Scorpia yells as she’s chased from the meeting room, Frosta and Mermista hot on her tail. “I don’t want to hurt you!” Rather than fight back, which Perfuma _knows_ Scorpia could do easily, she lets herself get pushed out the back doors of the palace and into the greenery. 

“Wait, you guys,” Perfuma tries, running after She-Ra as Glimmer teleports outside with Mermista. “Hold on.”

Once out in the open, Perfuma sees Scorpia raising her pincers above her head, just trying to shield herself, and she watches as Frosta’s ice spikes simply glance off of their hard shells. Before Frosta can do actual damage, Scorpia’s bot jumps in front of her to ward off the attack, but Perfuma doesn’t see the robot land a single shot. Rather, it appears to be aiming for… the space below Glimmer’s feet?

“Please stop attacking me. I’m not here to fight you!” Scorpia cries out, her pincers spread wide and leaving herself open to attack. 

Perfuma, holding a hand to her heart, can hear that voice again. That voice that has been popping up more and more over the last couple of months, whenever Scorpia has shown up to fight them. 

“You guys,” Perfuma says loudly in a lull between attacks. “I think she’s telling the truth.”

She’s behind Scorpia now, and can see her muscled back. 

And damn, damn, _damn_ Etheria.

Damn it all. The superweapon, all of it.

Damn.

Those muscles.

Before she knows what’s happening, she feels a sting against her shoulder where Scorpia’s tail has poked her. And as she sinks to the floor, Scorpia hovers over her.

“Oh gosh, oh no, I’m so sorry. It’s instinct. I’m so sorry,” she babbles, pincers hovering over Perfuma and her face so sweet it could cause damage to your teeth just by looking at it. 

_Top me,_ Perfuma thinks, right before she loses consciousness.

### 3\. 

With a flourish, Perfuma twists the hat on her head a little to the side so it’s half-crooked. She’s loving this whole thing they’re doing. She’s ready to work this undercover mission, although she’s a little bummed out that Mermista wouldn’t let her play Tara _and_ Tara’s evil twin.

At least Scorpia is with her, while Mermista and Sea Hawk have disappeared off to Etheria knows where. 

“I’ll chat up these fellas at the table. You go mingle with those ruffians over there,” Perfuma says sweetly, patting Scorpia’s right pincer. “Do your worst, Lynda D’Ream.” She winks over her shoulder as she walks away, eyeing Scorpia in her black, floor-length dress. Her wide shoulders are to die for, and Perfuma could kiss Mermista for picking this outfit for her.

“What a lovely shindig, huh?” she asks the two men at the table she’s just joined. “My, what a pointy sword you have.” She tries to play it cool, although Perfuma isn’t really the type to hit on men. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watches as Scorpia tries to blend in, too. 

But while Perfuma soon finds herself in the company of people who laugh at her jokes, Scorpia isn’t having the same success. Seeing her face fall from one failed attempt to the next is almost enough to break Perfuma’s heart.

When she sees Scorpia moving towards an empty table, shoulders slumped, square back hunched forward, Perfuma can’t take it anymore. 

She catches up with her new friend just as Scorpia reaches the table.

“Hey, how are things going? Did you find out anything?” she asks tentatively, her hand hovering just behind Scorpia’s back, though she’s careful about staying out of the range of Scorpia’s stinger this time. While it was sweet to have Scorpia fussing over her the last time, she doesn’t need a repeat performance at this underwater party adventure.

“Yeah,” Scorpia says sullenly, giving Perfuma a defeated look. “I found out I’m really bad at this.” She sighs, and turns towards the window, watching sea creatures pass by them and the seaweed gently sway with the currents. 

“Don’t say that,” Perfuma replies quietly, curling her hand around Scorpia’s thick bicep. “That’s just the old you talking, consumed with all that self-doubt the Horde instilled in you.” She draws her fingers along Scorpia’s skin, briefly distracted by the way Scorpia flexes unconsciously under her touch.

“I’m just…” Scorpia turns further away from her, shame playing across her face. “I’m not really the leading-lady type.”

Pain arches through Perfuma like a spark of red energy, and she can’t stop herself from grabbing Scorpia’s right pincer and holding on so tightly her own fingers start to hurt from the strain. 

“That’s nonsense!” she says with as much conviction as she can muster. Her words must strike something in Scorpia, because she suddenly turns her face, and her expression is so vulnerable, Perfuma wants to kiss her. Just once, just to show her how Perfuma sees her. How beautiful she is, how strong. How _kind._

“You’re amazing,” Perfuma says next, holding eye contact the entire time. “You have the biggest heart and you could do whatever you put your mind to.” 

Once Scorpia is turned fully towards her, Perfuma grabs her other pincer. Her hold isn’t as unrelenting anymore, but she feels more connected to Scorpia than ever before. Her heart beats out of turn, and Scorpia looks so sweet when she whispers, haltingly. “Really?”

Again, Perfuma feels that urge to kiss her, but she holds off. This isn’t about her.

“Okay,” she says, drawing Scorpia a little closer. “What do you, Scorpia, like to do?”

There are naughty thoughts in her brain about what _she’d_ like to do with Scorpia, but she pushes those aside, too. There are moments to be inappropriate, and this is not one of them. 

“I don’t know,” Scorpia says with some hesitation, her eyes flitting off Perfuma and towards the window again. “I guess I always liked singing. But I wasn’t ever any good at it. At least people said so.” She frowns a little. “Well, Catra said so, but it’s fine.”

By rights, Perfuma is not an angry person. She’s never been an angry person. She meditates, she drinks her morning tea, and she tries to find peace and balance between all living things. But if Catra were here right now, Perfuma knows she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from kicking that little magicat in the shin. Multiple times.

“Scorpia,” Perfuma insists, holding her new friend’s pincers up a little higher. “Doing things isn’t about how good you are at them.” She draws Scorpia to the dance floor and places Scorpia’s pincer on her own waist before grabbing the other one with her right hand. She herself lays her left hand on Scorpia’s bicep. 

No ulterior motive.

Just a touch.

She doesn’t even squeeze the muscle.

“It’s about how they make you happy,” Perfuma finishes, turning them in a circle and looking up at her tall, handsome friend. She feels reminded of the moments after she’d woken up from being stung, of Scorpia telling her that she wanted to come to Bright Moon to learn how to be a good friend. It seems the Horde has done nothing for Scorpia but hurt her, even in ways Scorpia hasn’t yet realized.

When Scorpia still doesn’t look convinced, Perfuma draws her a little closer and smiles.

“Repeat after me: I can do this. I can do this.”

After a few false starts, one of which _(“Perfuma can do this.”)_ fills her with so much love in her chest she doesn’t quite know what to do with it, Scorpia finally seems to find her own confidence. And when she swings Perfuma around and proclaims that she can do anything, Perfuma finds herself back in the inappropriate place. 

Where, as she feels safe in those strong arms, held tightly by Scorpia’s pincers, the only thought in her brain for a few seconds is _top me._ By Etheria, just _top me forever._

### 4\. 

As soon as they make it into the Fright Zone, Perfuma can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore. What she told Catra in their temporary hide-out was true. Now, after everything, Scorpia knows the support of a true friend, and Perfuma _knows_ that if she just tries hard enough, Scorpia can break out of any mind control the Horde has placed her under.

She’s never seen anyone with a bigger heart than Scorpia. 

While the others hide behind a wall, Perfuma clasps her hands in front of herself and swallows down her fear. This place may be dour and desolate, but Scorpia grew up here and opened her heart just the same. It only proves what Perfuma has long suspected: That even in the darkest places, life can flourish, and beautiful flowers will grow if given just the slightest amount of love and attention. 

“Scorpia!” she calls out, walking along the corridor as the others hiss for her to stay quiet. “Scorpia, it’s me! Where are you?” 

Her knees shake a little as she walks further into the corridor, hoping she will catch a glimpse of a stinger around the next corner. Or the next. Or the next. She only stops when the ground and the walls around them begin to crackle with red energy. 

“You guys make the worst plans,” Catra mutters from behind her, and for just a moment, Perfuma feels herself agreeing. Just a little bit. Especially when the wall next to them explodes to reveal Scorpia in all her glory, red energy from the Black Garnet pulsing all around her. 

“Scorpia?” Perfuma asks quietly, pressing her hand to her own chest and taking a step forward. Before she can get too close, Adora grabs her by the arm.

“Don’t,” she whispers, keeping Perfuma at bay.

But Scorpia doesn’t move a muscle.

Doesn’t make any attempt to attack.

“What’s wrong with her?” Netossa asks, her magical nets at the ready. “Why isn’t she hitting us with everything she’s got?” She sounds nervous, but Perfuma’s chest feels fuller than it has in days. Ever since Scorpia sacrificed herself to save them, she hasn’t been able to stop thinking of her. 

“She recognizes us,” Perfuma says, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “I told you she’d never hurt her friends.” Dropping her hands to her sides in open invitation, Perfuma walks towards Scorpia, before slowly breaking into a jog. “Scorpia?”

She’s almost close enough to see Scorpia’s face in all its tender glory, when her friend raises her pincer.

“Perfuma!” Adora shouts, just as the energy blast forms, and Perfuma freezes for a moment, struck dumb by her shock. She’d believed so strongly that Scorpia would recognize her if given the chance, that Horde Prime’s brainwashing would wash off as soon as Perfuma was close enough. 

She’s saved only by Adora tackling her to the side.

“She… She must not recognize that it’s us,” Perfuma says shakily, bringing a hand to her hair. It’s tough, seeing Scorpia so out of control, so outside of herself. “What is Prime doing to her? She’s such a gentle soul.”

They hear and see Catra trying to defend herself, and Perfuma feels Adora tense up beside her.

“Catra!” she yells, just as Scorpia blasts Catra away with a bolt of red energy. 

“This is so not how I thought this day would end,” Perfuma mutters to herself as she gets back to her feet, Adora having long-since transformed into She-Ra to prevent the giant piece of electrical equipment from smashing them into the ground. “This is _not_ how I want to be topped.”

As she jumps out of reach, ordering She-Ra to drop the tank she’s holding over her head, she wonders for the first time if all is lost. If even Scorpia can be controlled - good, sweet, delicate Scorpia - then they may very well all be lost.

### 5\. 

Again, Perfuma is not having the best time of her life.

She’s been shot at, she’s been hit by energy blasts, she’s had to prevent others and herself from being crushed to death by falling rocks and robots. 

All she wants is for this fight to be over, and for things to go back to the way they used to be, before all this mess. Before the Horde started attacking everyone. Before they were pulled into the wider universe, under constant threat of Horde Prime.

And what now?

Netossa can’t hold up that forcefield forever. Can’t _protect_ them forever.

In a desperate bid to hold onto hope, Perfuma lays her hand on Frosta’s shoulder and draws her close. Without hesitation, Frosta shuffles against her, wrapping her arms around Perfuma’s waist. 

Sometimes, Perfuma forgets just how young Frosta really is. 

For a moment, she allows fear to reign, as she watches more and more Horde clones surround them. But before she can close her eyes and accept their fate, a spike of red energy zaps by them and takes out a full row of Horde clones. 

“Scorpia?” she whispers to herself, turning her head just in time to see Scorpia run over to them with Bow at her side. Her eyes are clear, no longer dominated by that green glow that had terrified Perfuma so much in the Fright Zone.

“I’m not too late, am I?” Scorpia asks as she comes to a stop next to Perfuma and Frosta, wrapping them both up in her huge arms. “How much did I miss?” Her sweetness is like a balm on Perfuma’s wounded soul, and she wraps her arms around Scorpia in turn, smushing her face against her barrel of a chest.

“I missed you,” she whispers, even though she’s not quite sure Scorpia can even hear her.

Before anything else can be said between them, the ground shakes, and Horde Prime himself materializes in front of them, up on a hill. He has Entrapta in his grasp, his hand holding her hair so tightly it looks painful.

The green energy forces them to their knees, and Perfuma feels Scorpia trying to shield both her and Frosta’s body from any damage. 

Never in her life has Perfuma felt both more love and more despair at once.

“Cower, Etheria! Behold, as I tear your puny, little planet asunder!” Horde Prime hollers from his position on top of the cliff. He’s too far away to make out his expression, but Perfuma can hear the determination in his voice. His hatred. “In cleansing fire, we shall burn together!”

A chasm appears, and green energy emerges stronger than ever before, a split in the planet’s crust, coming closer and closer. 

“Perfuma,” Scorpia says, her pincer pulling Perfuma closer than before. “I never got to tell you. I--”

The ground shakes, and Perfuma is on the verge of pulling Scorpia into a desperate kiss. Just so she can cross it off her list of things she doesn’t want to regret never having done. But just as she’s on the verge of locking their lips together, everything stops.

In a second, the green light vanishes, replaced by the golden glow of magic that always permeates her whenever She-Ra is close-by. Whenever Perfuma feels particularly connected to her runestone. Whenever she’s around Scorpia.

Together as one, they all watch as She-Ra appears in front of them, the ground below her feet sprouting into grass, and Perfuma slowly gets to her feet with Scorpia’s help. 

“Wow,” Perfuma breathes as She-Ra turns the desolate ground they’re standing on into a gorgeous valley. Flowers, trees, and magical creatures return to their rightful place, and though Perfuma can’t see the moment that She-Ra vanquishes Horde Prime, she can feel it. 

“This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she whispers to herself as the sunshine bathes her in the glow of its own magic, Horde Prime’s ship no longer a sign of evil, but a shining beacon of hope. A giant, floating tree. 

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” Scorpia agrees from beside her, but when Perfuma looks at her, Scorpia’s attention is focused solely on her face. “Hey, um, Perfuma. It’s been a minute. You look, wow, you look great.” There’s a blush on her cheeks. 

Stomach tingling, Perfuma leans back into Scorpia’s arms and kisses her cheek.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” she murmurs, right before Frosta accidentally kicks her in the face. Perfuma hadn’t even realized Frosta was sitting on Scorpia’s broad shoulders, but it’s probably for the best.

If Frosta hadn’t kicked her, Perfuma might have said something she really shouldn’t have.

Something like, _wow, top me emotionally._

And that’s just not something Perfuma feels like she should be saying right now, straight after She-Ra just saved their universe and all. Maybe.

### +1. 

The party is a blast, even though Perfuma feels a little worn out from the battle.

Her weary body, her renewed magic, and her desire to mingle with those she loves are warring inside her, and while she wouldn’t mind taking a little nap soon - or perhaps multiple naps all strung together, one after the other - she doesn’t want to miss this. All of them, together at Bright Moon once again.

She hasn’t seen Adora and Catra in quite a while, but something in her chest tells her it’s a good absence, a healing absence, and so she doesn’t bother pointing it out to anyone else. Besides, she has far too much hugging to do, as well as letting flowers grow along her friends’ clothes to show her love for them.

“Ugh, Perfuma, please,” Mermista whines, although she suspiciously doesn’t stop Perfuma from braiding a blue orchid into her blue hair. “Stop.” She draws out the word, but lifts not a finger as Perfuma giggles. 

“As always, your beauty blinds me anew,” Sea Hawk whines as he presses the back of his hand against his forehead, leaning over Mermista’s lap until she pushes him off. There’s a distinct smile on her face, though, and Perfuma moves on to Bow and Glimmer, who are chatting with Bow’s dads.

Just before she reaches them, a pincer catches her by the arm.

“Perfuma,” Scorpa says, dragging her into a corner. 

“Yes?” Perfuma asks, crossing her hands in front of her body and smiling up at Scorpia, whose face is flushed and who is rubbing the back of her head. Unable to stop herself, Perfuma lets a vine curl itself around Scorpia’s pincer and up her arm, sprouting little red flowers along the way. 

“I, uh, I wanted to,” Scorpia says, her eyes dropping from Perfuma’s face to the flowers along her arm. “Just, what I’m trying to say is…” She trails off, her beautiful dark eyes completing the shy, adorable look that Perfuma could never resist.

“I feel the same way,” Perfuma whispers, laying her fingers against the chestplate of Scorpia’s Horde uniform. None of them have had the time or headspace to change out of the clothes they wore to the battle. 

“Oh, uh, you do?” Scorpia asks, her eyes flying back up to Perfuma’s. “Really?”

Perfuma is not a shy person. She’s never been shy about what she wants and who she likes. She’s never been afraid to open her heart, to wear it on her sleeve as a badge of honor, rather than a mark of weakness. She’s been called foolish, she’s been called easy to trick. 

She’s never been afraid.

“Of course,” Perfuma replies, sliding her hands against Scorpia’s cheeks. “Have you seen yourself? You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. When I look at you, I see a tall, strong redwood tree, and all I know is how to climb.”

Scorpia gulps.

“Oh,” she says, “oh, wow.”

There is more Perfuma could say. 

So much more. 

There hasn’t been a single night since Scorpia joined their side that Perfuma hasn’t thought about her. 

But she doesn’t have to say anything else.

With the softest smile that anyone has ever directed at her, Scorpia leans down and captures Perfuma’s lips in a kiss. It’s as overpowering as her presence, and Perfuma leans into the embrace, letting herself be dipped just a little. 

Scorpia’s lips are as tender as the rest of her, and Perfuma trusts that those arms will hold her tight until the morning comes. 

When they pull apart from each other again, Scorpia’s cheeks are as red as her pincers, and her eyes are closed, as though she doesn’t want this moment to end. Like, if she opens her eyes, Perfuma will be gone.

“Oh boy,” Scorpia says to herself when she finally looks at Perfuma again. “Oh, wow, oh boy. Wow, I hope that was okay. I probably should have asked. Oh man.” Scorpia’s pincers hold her a little tighter. “Was that okay?”

Instead of answering, Perfuma leans up on her tiptoes and kisses her again.

The tingles in Perfuma’s chest return tenfold, and she leans a little further up so she can wrap both of her arms around Scorpia’s neck. In turn, Scorpia squeezes her closer, her biceps bulging against Perfuma’s back in a way that has Perfuma swooning.

“I guess that’s a yes? Right?” Scorpia asks breathlessly the next time they stop kissing. Her eyes are half-lidded, and there’s the cutest smudge of lipstick on her mouth that’s been transferred from what was left of Perfuma’s.

“Yes, Scorpia. Yes,” Perfuma confirms, her feet no longer touching the ground as Scorpia holds her up effortlessly in her arms. 

Smiling shyly, Scorpia nudges their noses together, and Perfuma almost melts.

But before she can say anything else, Mermista’s voice breaks the moment.

“Hey, lovebugs, we’re going outside to do some stargazing, now that the stars aren’t going to try and murder us all in cold blood. You coming, or what?” She seems annoyed at their canoodling, but Perfuma knows better. She’s been friends with Mermista for over three years at this point, so she can see the fondness underneath her rude tone.

“What do you say?” Perfuma asks Scorpia as she slowly slides back to the ground. “Would you like to come look at the stars with me?”

Keeping one pincer cupped around Perfuma’s waist, Scorpia nods happily.

“I’d love to,” she says, her eyes sparkling with the magic that now surrounds them. Or maybe that’s just Perfuma’s imagination. 

In any case, she knows it won’t be long now.

“You know,” she says as they follow behind the rest of the group, her voice lowered so none of the others can hear her. “If you want to, you can top me anytime.” Her hand is held loosely in Scorpia’s right pincer, and she swings it in between them. Back and forth. Softly.

Her words though, cause Scorpia to stand up so straight her tail almost grows vertical with her back.

“Oh, ah, that--that is good to know,” she says, clearing her throat behind her left pincer. “Very good--good, good information to have.”

Bumping her shoulder against Scorpia’s, Perfuma lets out a laugh she hadn’t realized she’s been holding for a long, long time. It’s good to finally be honest about _this,_ too.

**Author's Note:**

> i couldn't continue writing anything else until i got this down in a google doc
> 
> if you want to support me, find me on tumblr @goshdarnitjay


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